Outsider
by brightshadowflame
Summary: Elijah upholds his side of the bargain and saves Rose. After living for centuries she has one year left.
1. Chapter 1

Rose is simultaneously in the best and worst place possible. She is lying in Damon's arms and he is holding her tightly to his chest, but at the same time she is lying there in utter agony, failing to hold back the tears that are slowly dampening his t-shirt. She is stuck on the thin wire between heaven and hell, which she can't help but see as a metaphor for her very existence. Call it her 15th century upbringing, but she had always been rather philosophical.

She can feel his hands moving slowly through her hair in a way that seems far, far too caring for them to be Damon's hands. If she wasn't entirely lucid at this very moment, she might have thought it was an illusion.

"Who'd have thought you'd be a nice guy?"

"I'm not nice. I'm mean. I like it." She wants to laugh at that, but can barely grasp the energy.

"You're lying." She can't help but point out. She can't help herself; being truthful is the foundation of whatever messed up friendship is between them. She has never lied to him, and whilst she can't say the same for Damon, she knows that he is at least a bit more truthful with her than with anyone else. And frankly that is the most she can ever really hope for right now. He's in love with another woman, and Rose knows, my god does she know, that she will never be able to compete with her, and honestly she is not sure that she wants to. Rose likes Elena, and she meant it when she said she didn't love men who loved other women. She knows that she doesn't need or want to get in the middle of this, and hopes that if she keeps telling herself this she might start to believe it.

Damon gently shushes her, and continues to stroke her head. She can feel the affection pouring out, and part of her wants to beg him to stop; she can't deal with the weight of it. It's drowning her, just knowing that he doesn't love her, and that she is ever so slowly falling in love with him. The only problem is if she pushes him away then she will be left alone.

"I can't-" She starts, then quickly breaks off, trying (and failing) to attempt to pry herself away from Damon's embrace. He looks at her confused, his arms not quite letting her go.

"Rose, what-"

"Leave me alone Damon." She mumbles half-heartedly, still trapped in his arms. She honestly would move, but she doesn't have the strength. The end is coming for her, and she is not ready to face it just yet, but it's coming just the same, and she is so bloody afraid.

"No." He says firmly, tightening his grip on her, and trying to make her more comfortable once again.

"Why?" She asks softly. It's not a clear question, but she is pretty sure that he understands.

"Because I'm your friend." She wants to shout at him and tell him that that is not nearly good enough, but she holds her tongue. "You don't deserve to be alone Rose. This is my fault-"

"Stop it, Damon." The emotion in his voice makes her snap. He is not allowed to be that way over her, particularly over something so stupid.

They don't say anything for a little while, and Rose just lets him hold her, even if it does hurt and help at the same time. She feels colder, even though she is pretty sure the room has gotten warmer since Damon wrapped her in his arms. Her shoulder feels like it's on fire, but it's the kind of heat that has become so unbearable that she can no longer really feel it anymore. The chills come and go, along with her memories. Since Damon started holding her, what must have been over an hour ago now, she has felt strangely calm and lucid. If she cared to think about it a bit more she would have bet that he had started compelling her mind to stay in this state, but that took too much energy. They are quiet apart from her harsh breathing, and for a while that fills the air. Then all of a sudden it comes out, the truth that had been bubbling under the surface for a while, but she had not had the heart to admit. She didn't want to let him know just how scared she was.

"I don't want to die." He scoffs, but Rose can tell that he doesn't mean it. "I know it's stupid, I'm over 500 years old, but I don't want to die." She sounds desperate even to her own ears, and she half expects him to tell her to get a grip.

"That's not stupid." He whispers into her hair, and she feels more of her tears silently soak his t-shirt that had just started to dry. "And you're not going to die, so stop being dramatic." She laughs at the old Damon sparking through, but it quickly turns into a moan of pain. "Shhhh…" He mumbles into her hair, pulling her just a little closer once more.

"When you are better," He says putting particular pressure on the 'when', "I'll get the wicked witch to make you one of these if you want?" He flashes his daylight ring in her face, and she smiles slightly.

"I doubt she'll do that for you willingly."

"Oh, I'll convince her. If not, I'm sure Elena will put in a good word for you. She's become weirdly… fond of you, you know."

"I don't think so, not after what she saw me do this evening." She sighs, her thoughts being dragged back to the murders she had unwillingly committed that day.

"Nah, I've done much worse, and she forgave me. I killed her brother, now that is serious evil brownie points."

"Yes, but she isn't in love with me." She wishes she hadn't said the words, as soon as they left her mouth, but it was too late. It wasn't that she didn't believe them to be true (as much as she hated to admit it), it was just that she knew Damon wouldn't believe her. She felt Damon stiffen beneath her, but he doesn't move. Rose is grateful, for a moment she feared that her words would push him away.

"What will you do when you have a ring?" Damon asks her, clearly choosing to ignore the elephant she had just brought out into their circus. She sighs at his diversion, but doesn't comment upon it.

"England, I suppose. I want to see Cornwall again, see where I was a child. I used to love playing in the fields in the sunshine with the horses. I miss that." He smiles, and asks her more about it. Rose can tell he's trying to distract her, and she lets him. Each word feels like it's taking away more of her pain, and suddenly she is there. She is dreaming of the horses and fields, and she is standing there in her favourite blue gown from when she was young. Her hair is long again, and is being whipped behind her by the wind.

She smiles and enjoys the feeling of warm sun on her face, the first time she's felt it without the sting of a burn in many, many years. The smell of the grass and countryside assaults her, and she feels more at peace than she has in decades. She wonders for a second if she has just died, and has gone to heaven, because she can't think of anywhere more like paradise.

"I've got to hand it to you Rose, this is quite a place." She hears his voice coming from behind her. She whips her head around, and can see Damon, still in his black clothes lying down on the grass, hands behind his head and eyes closed. She slowly goes and sits beside him, her hand just brushing his arm.

"Thank you." He opens one eye to glare at her, and then pulls her down beside him at Vampire speed. She laughs and she can see his mouth go up in a small smile.

"No need to thank me for a dream, the room was becoming too depressing." She rests her head on his chest and sighs deeply.

"Nothing hurts here."

"I'm glad." They lie there for a while, just enjoying each others company. He asks her more questions about her childhood and her family and Trevor, and what she had been doing for the last 500 years. She answers becoming more animated the longer they talk. Damon is a good listener, surprisingly, and nods and asks all the right questions. The one thing he doesn't do is laugh, which is a shame. Rose thinks it is the one thing that would make her relax completely, but is also the one thing that makes her remember that this is all a dream.

"I'm tired." She says after a while, closing her eyes on his chest. Their hands are entwined and she is enjoying the feeling of him playing with her fingers. "I've been running for such a long time."

"I know." He mumbles softly, and she is glad, because the way he says it speaks of understanding not sympathy. She was right when she told Elena that the two of them were very similar. They have both been running for a very long time.

"Will I see them again? My family?" She asks, sitting up suddenly.

"I think you'll see whoever you want to see."

"That would be nice. Maybe I'll see Trevor too!" She says excitedly. He smiles at her, but it's a broken smile, and she can tell that her words are hurting him ever so slightly. The talk of death and her accepting her fate is strangely bittersweet. So she says the one thing that will make it better. "I'm not afraid anymore." She's not sure if it helped, and she's not sure if this is the first lie she has told him in their short flawed friendship. His face remains impassive, but she hopes that it helps him, and that she believes the words more than she currently thinks she does. She knows she mustn't have too long left, so she hopes that he might at least enjoy these last few moments with her before it's too late.

"I'll race you to the trees!" She laughs, jumping up. Her laugh is stale, and she is far too abrupt, but she doesn't care. She just wants to distract him.

"Well, you'll loose."

"I'm older and faster." She comes back with teasingly.

"Oh, you think?" He smiles at her and pushes himself up from the ground, "Well, I'm controlling this dream. Maybe I'll cheat."

"On the count of three." She says daringly, already started to move away from him. Ready to race him away into the woods. She wonders if the dream will end when she gets there, she told him barely anything of the forests surrounding her home, or if Damon will make up a woodland of their own. "One." She smiles at him, trying to draw him forward. "Two-"

"DAMON, NO!" Someone screams, and suddenly everything changes. Images fly before her mind, and she is ripped painfully and awkwardly out of her sleep and the paradise that she and Damon had just inhabited. She wonders if she has just died, and if those were the last words that she heard before she passed on. How had she died anyway? Had the bite suddenly taken her, or had something else happened?

But then she feels it. The burn working its way through the bones in her shoulders and the bubbling, boiling flesh that makes her want to chop the tissue away with her own two hands. She lets out a small muffled wail, and realises where she is. The sound is absorbed into Damon's t-shirt, and she grabs the material in her hands.

She is back in his bedroom. The dream is over, and for some twisted blow of fate she is still alive. She just wants it to be through, and the relief that was momentarily there when she thought that she was dead is instantly gone, and instead replaced with the pain of the bite and all that that entails. The burning and the pain of having her peaceful exit from this world ripped away from her at a moments notice.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Shhh…" She hears Damon mutter to her, gently rocking her back and forth, and she realises that she is yet again crying, loud noisy tears pooling around her.

"Elena…" She hears him growl, and she is surprised at the anger in his voice.

"Damon, you can't! There's a cure. We've found a cure!" He stops rocking her abruptly, and she feels him shift all of his attention over to the Petrova doppelganger.

"What?"

"It's Elijah. He knows how to fix this." She stiffens at the name, and all the fear that his name has ever brought her comes flooding back. She is over in the corner of the room before Damon can even try to stop her, even though she collapses onto the floor as soon as she makes it there. Damon looks at her with mixed emotions, a cross between irritation at her reaction and admiration that she managed to make it all the way to the corner of the room in her current state.

"No! No, no, no, no! Please, please tell me he's not here! Elena, please!" She cries, trying to make herself as small as possible. Elena walks towards her, despite Damon's wary glances in her direction, and places a hand gently on Rose's shoulder.

"Rose, he can save you."

"NO! I don't want him to save me! I'd rather die! Really, Elena, just let me die!"

"Stop being overdramatic." Damon snarls, which only gets him a glare from Elena. Rose is too busy panicking about Elijah to make room for anything else. She has been running from the Original for the last 500 years, and he is the one person on this planet aside from Klaus who actually scares her. He murdered her best friend in front of her eyes, and would not hesitate to do the same to her. He has made her life a living hell ever since Katerina Petrova entered it. He has been the reason she has never settled down, never fallen in love and has never, ever had a peaceful night sleep in the last few centuries. He has tormented her day and night, and has made her fear her own shadow and doubt people she might have otherwise called friends. He is a dangerous enigma, and Rose wants nothing to do with him, even if it means saving her own skin.

"No." She mutters to herself, and continues repeating the word, forcing her eyes as shut as they can possibly go, tears still struggling to leak out. Rose knows she must look a state, but doesn't care. She knows she must look like she's loosing her mind, and honestly she's not sure that she's not, so she doesn't care about that either. Fear and desperation are taking over, and she can no longer think straight or even remotely rationally. She just wants everything to be over, and for her to die and go back to her fields and horses. She just wants to go back to that paradise and have Damon hold her caringly in his arms.

There is a tight grip on her forearm, and she moans as it is twisted slightly.

"Rose. Snap. Out. Of. It." Damon growls, forcing her head up to look at him. He is no longer looking at her even remotely affectionately, but instead with the most vacant look that she has ever seen on his face. There is no doubt in her mind that he has his best poker face on. Unfortunately she thinks she knows why, but at least it's not because he is trying to hurt her. She tries her hardest to get her breathing under control, and Elena rubs her back softly, like one would a child, holding Rose's free hand with her other.

She thinks she has finally got a hold of herself, when that illusion is rattled.

"Good evening, Rosemary." Elijah says cordially, having appeared suddenly in the room before the three of them. She stops breathing, Damon turns so he is standing almost protectively in front of her, although it is only subtly so, and Elena grips her hand tighter. Rose thinks she's trying to be reassuring, but it only makes her fear increase.

Rose tries to say his name confidently and without a hint of the fear that is currently encasing her, but fails miserably, her pain and fright evident in her voice.

All of a sudden there is another blur and a frustrated looking Stefan is standing by Elena, his normally tranquil face looking rather frazzled. In different circumstances Rose is sure she would have laughed at the expression on the gentle Salvatore's face, but at that moment she certainly did not feel like laughing, and she is pretty sure that the gesture would not be well received. Most of the room already thinks she is loosing her mind. He shares a glance with Damon and grimaces apologetically.

"I apologise for my rather abrupt entrance, but young Stefan was rather hesitant that I see you Rosemary."

"Meaning he staked me with his umbrella." Stefan grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I tried to keep him away, but he is very single minded."

"Yes, well." Elijah smiled tartly, clasping his hands together, "When Elena informed me of the attack it was my duty to intervene."

"What duty? What does Elena have on you?" Damon sneered, clearly knowing just as much about the situation as Rose did.

"That, is between Miss Gilbert and I. However, our agreement means Rosemary must live."

"How do we know that there are no catches to this deal? What will we owe you?" Damon asks suspiciously, and Stefan nods his head in agreement. Throughout the whole conversation, Elena has been avoiding looking at everyone, in particular Elijah, and Rose can't help but feel sorry for the girl. At the end of all this she is going to have a lot of explaining to do. Stefan, however, only looks half surprised at Elena's role in all of this, and frankly, Rose thinks he might be more pissed off about the umbrella staking than anything else.

Elijah looks at Damon blankly, but simply shrugs his shoulders, still managing to look dignified.

"You have nothing but my word. Unless we act soon however, it will not make a difference." Damon grimaces, quickly glancing down at Rose. Within seconds the look has quickly passed over his features so his poker face is back on. Rose has become more than a little irritated that all of this is going on without her input – it is her life after all, even if she is now barely hanging on. She deserves to be able to make her own decision as to whether or not she accepts Elijah's help.

"No." She attempts to shout, just at the same time as Damon says, "Done." to Elijah. He quickly turns to Rose and glares at her menacingly, telling her with his eyes to shut-up. She tries to muster up the energy to glare back, but even keeping her eyes open at this stage is a struggle. Stefan glances between the two of them anxiously, as if trying to work out how to get around the ensuing argument.

"What is the cure, Elijah?" Elena asks all of a sudden, speaking for the first time since the Original entered the room.

"You mean you didn't check first?" Damon says annoyed, "Am I the only one here who actually likes to use their brain."

"It's my blood actually." Elijah replies, clearly bemused by what is going on, "It is not a cure per say, but it'll certainly buy time."

"How much time?" Stefan asks, and Rose wants to yell at them all to stop this nonsense. There is no way in hell that she is going to drink the Originals blood, even if it is literally over her own dead body. The idea repulses her, and she is sure that if she were to throw up now it would be down to that and not the werewolf bite.

"Almost a year, I would have thought. Anything more permanent than that and I'm afraid you would have to talk to Klaus. His is more suitable for this kind of thing."

"Do it." Damon says coolly, quietly stepping aside from his protective position in front of her. Rose's eyes widen in horror, looking towards Damon betrayed and then to Stefan who just looks at her with sympathy, but refuses to do anything. Elena still won't hold her gaze, but lets go of her hand and takes her place by Stefan's side.

Before Rose can even utter a sound, he is there in front of her, his wrist in her mouth. Her instincts kick in automatically and blood unwillingly enters her mouth and down her throat. She fights the need to swallow, chocking on the blood, but Elijah doesn't stop. She tries to push him away, but lacks the energy.

She feels like she is drowning, and can feel a dribble of blood making its way down her throat. She wants to throw up, but can't help herself. She needs his blood, but that does not mean she wants it. It is warm and tastes amazing, which makes her detest it all the more. Whilst everything else she has eaten recently has come straight up, this is making her feel better than she has done in days. She hates herself right then; acting like nothing but a dirty animal that has been starved for days. She wishes Elena weren't in the room right now. Elena has seen Rose at her worst tonight, and she wants nothing more than to compel her to forget; to compel Elena to forget that she is nothing but a monster. She just wants to be left alone to wallow at her own miserable existence.

All of a sudden it stops, and it takes Rose a few moments to see what has happened. Elijah is looking down at her with a pitying smile on his face, and Rose wishes to God that she had a stake in her hand at that moment to wipe it off. Damon is standing behind him, glaring furiously at Elijah, on hand gripped tight on his shoulder.

"That is enough." He spits, pushing Elijah back away from Rose.

"I quite agree." Elijah smirks, once again giving Rose that superior glance. "I am glad I was able to uphold my side of the bargain. One year, Rosemary," He says calmly, re-buttoning his shirt cuffs where Rose's mouth had just been. Rose is not sure if the last thing he says is meant to be taken as a warning to find a better cure or an inappropriate reminder of her days left on this earth. Knowing Elijah, it could be both. "In a few days, you might be ready to start living it."


	2. Chapter 2

"I hate you."

"And so the natural order has now been restored." Damon says to Rose, lacking the usual bite that would accompany such a statement. Rose groans softly and buries her head in one of his pillows, allowing a few tears to fall, but nothing more. She will not let Damon see her cry.

Damon at this moment is sitting on the other side of his bed, but given the size of the damn thing, it feels like there is a giant canyon between them. Neither says anything for a few moments, each too stubborn to admit that they might have made mistakes today.

"I couldn't let you die, Rose."

"It wasn't your choice to make." She isn't angry as she says that, simply stating facts. She doesn't want to argue with him, but she can't just let this go. He knows just how much she hates Elijah, and just how much she fears him, and yet he let her be fed blood by his own hand. She knows that she shouldn't be this angry, but she can't help herself.

"I don't think either of us really had much of a say. Elena was the one who made the deal, and Elijah would have delivered his end of the bargain whether we liked it or not. Just grow up, get over yourself and be thankful that you're not dead." He says coldly, and storms out of the room. Rose shudders as she hears the door slam, and squeezes her eyes shut.

"Damon…" She whispers, and knows that he must have heard her, but no one comes to the door. Elijah left just over an hour ago now, and after the awkward conversation with Elena where she explained the protection deal she had made with Elijah about her friends and family, Elena and Stefan left the room to give the two vampires some privacy. The tension between the two could have been cut with a knife at that point, and neither said anything until Rose had uttered those first words moments ago. He had helped her into his bed and then that had been it.

She was feeling far better than she had in days, but still felt like a sick human rather than her normal self. She was exhausted and the wound in her shoulder still ached, but at least it was better than before.

Her thoughts were still tied to Damon, but with him absent and the possibility of her moving being next to none, she decided to try and get some sleep, letting her eyes gently close, and hoping to go back to the paradise Damon had built for her hours before.

* * *

The smell of blood is the first thing that Rose wakes up to, making her open her eyes in a flash. She is ravenous, and her fangs come out without warning, just serving as an indication of how hungry she actually is.

"Wow, someone's thirsty." Says a soft voice from somewhere near her. Rose moves groggily to see none other than Stefan sitting in an armchair beside the bed, smiling warmly. She is surprised to see him there, having had very little interaction with the vampire since she began her stay in the boarding house.

"Stefan?" She asks croakily, her voice feeling like sandpaper. She sits up half-heartedly, feeling much better than she had done before she had fallen asleep. Stefan just smiles at her and offers her a blood bag. Rose thanks him, feeling grateful that he hadn't tried to feed her bambi instead. At least he isn't trying to convert her.

"Don't worry. It's human. It's from Damon's supply." He says kindly, and she raises her eyebrows in surprise that he guessed what she was thinking. The blood is gone within seconds, and Rose is pleasantly surprised to find that he had warmed it up for her. There is obviously more to the other Salvatore brother than meet the eye, she thinks.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiles at her, and leans back in the armchair. "It's good to see you are looking better. You had us worried for a moment there." She furrows her brows in confusion.

"Why? I don't mean to be rude, but you don't exactly know me Stefan." She says bluntly, but not trying to sound unkind.

"True, but that doesn't mean I want you dead." He sighs, "Besides, both Elena and Damon would have cared if anything had happened to you, and I don't want that."

"They would be fine." She says softly, relaxing back into the pillows of the bed. "I don't matter. I'm just a pawn in this giant chess game. Easily lost and expendable."

"No, you are far more important than that – although I like your metaphor for our lives. It is worryingly accurate."

"I'm over 500 years old. Philosophical metaphors are in my nature." She smiles, and he laughs with her. He is a nice guy, Rose realises not for the first time that night, and she can see what Elena loves about him. "You and Damon are remarkably similar – do you know that?" Stefan shakes his head.

"I don't think so. Damon and I have not been close since before Katherine. We were inseparable back then, and extraordinarily alike too, but we have both changed a lot since those times." He sighs, and Rose feels sorry for him. Damon IS an arsehole most of the time, but is one ALL of the time around Stefan.

"No, maybe not, but he is changing Stefan. Maybe, in time you will see what I see."

"I hope so. You scared him tonight Rose, and Damon doesn't get scared. He really cares about you." She laughs, but it easily conveys her bitterness and uncertainty about Damon's true feelings.

"He's angry with me."

"No, he was scared for you. He's shutting it off." Stefan reasons, and Rose finds herself hoping he is right.

"We are just friends Stefan." Stefan smiles once more at that, and she can tell he sees right through her. "I'm really sorry, but I think you know it's not me he cares for. Elena may love you, but that doesn't mean Damon doesn't love her."

"I know." Stefan replies, but still smiles at her. It's kind of unnerving, and makes Rose feel self-conscious. She was expecting him to deny any possible feelings between Damon and Elena, not to accept them right in front of her. Rose wonders if Stefan knows that he is still smiling at her creepily? Frankly it's becoming a little disturbing.

"Look, Stefan, thanks for this." She says, placing the glass on the counter, "But I'm going to have a bath, so, if you don't mind…" She indicates that he should leave, by gesturing towards the door. Stefan looks like he is lost in thought, the shadows of the smile still etched on his face.

"Um, yeah. Go ahead! Elena and I are downstairs if you need anything. Take your time!" Rose smirks at him wearily, and once again points towards the door, from which he quickly departs, a little bit embarrassed that he had zoned out on her. As soon as he shuts the door, Rose tiredly flops back down on the bed. It has apparently been a long day for the lot of them, not just herself.

Slowly, and doing little to stop herself from groaning out loud, she heads towards Damon's bathroom, fully intent on washing away all the dirt and grime away from her skin.

She shuts the door and makes sure to lock it – there is no way she wants to be disturbed by Damon right now – and starts to run her bath, making sure to use Damon's expensive bubble bath. She is not entirely sure as to why Damon has any, only presuming that the vampire probably uses it for not entirely innocent purposes. She laughs at that – one thing Damon definitely is not, is innocent.

As she gets herself undressed Rose catches a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror and can't help but do a double take. The person staring back at her looks thin and sallow, with huge bags under her eyes. Her skin is unnaturally pale, even for a vampire, and Rose can't help but think she hasn't looked this bad since she was a human. Taking in one deep preparatory gulp of air she turns around to see the damage on her shoulder. It certainly looks much better than it had, but Rose still winces at the now closed cuts. The skin around them is still slightly yellow, just serving as a reminder of the infection that still lies beneath. It feels a little sore, but doesn't bother her too much, which she is glad about. If she has only a year, one measly year, left to live, she is glad she won't have to live every day of that in pain.

Rose sighs at just how messy and complicated it has become, and sinks thankfully into the bathtub. The bathtub itself is large, definitely big enough to fit multiple people inside, and Rose is pretty sure that that is exactly what it has done on multiple occasions. Probably the same reason why Damon owns expensive bubble bath. Rose smiles despite herself. She tries to gather some semblance of anger towards Damon, but it is impossible. He may have gone against her wishes earlier, and may be a philandering womanizer, but she can't help herself when she is around him. He is horrible. Damon really is, but she can't bring herself to hate him, and she really, really should. Rose told him that she doesn't love men who love other women, but she can't help but find herself becoming that woman. So, yes, no matter how hard she tries, she can already feel herself forgiving him, and wanting him to shag her right now in this very bathtub, no matter how crude and a complete 360 on her morals it may seem.

He makes her act this way, stupidly and irrationally, and Rose is pretty sure that he doesn't realise it. She is the older woman in this case, even if she doesn't feel that old at heart, and she would be sans-werewolf bite be far stronger and faster than Damon could ever be. She should be the dominant, strong one, but she is not, and that scares her.

Rose sighs deeply, dunking her whole body under water, not bothering with something as unnecessary to a vampire as breathing, just enjoying the feeling of water surrounding her. She wants it to clear her head, and clear away with it any thoughts (good, bad or naughty) about Damon Salvatore. After a few minuets she realises how futile this is, and resurfaces, involuntarily taking in a big gasp of air.

The bathwater has started to get cold, and Rose realises she must have been in there for far longer than she thought she had been. When you can't tell the time of day without the risk of getting yourself burnt to a crisp, and of course the handy devise that is a watch or phone, it is very difficult to know how much time has passed. Rose feels a thousand times better as she gets out of the bath and lets out the water, wrapping one of Damon's expensive fluffy white towels around her body. She bets that if she were to turn around and look at the bite, it would look better as well, but she has already looked at it today, and she doesn't really want to see the reminder, no matter how distant, of what has happened in the last few days.

As she opens the bathroom door, she is surprised to see that someone – probably Elena – has laid out some clothes for her, and she is immediately very grateful. She owns very little, and is not too sure what has happened to her possessions in the drama of the last few days. Elena is really such a nice girl; Rose can easily see them becoming friends if she sticks around. She sighs quietly; she doesn't want to think about that right now. The decision to stay or go is not one she has worked out yet, and she wants to at least try and discuss it with Damon before she makes up her mind.

As she puts on the clothes that Elena has left out for her, her eye catches something lying beside them on the bed. It is a ring, much like the one she had seen briefly on the other vampire, Caroline's own hand. It is more delicate than Caroline's however, and not at all flashy like the Salvatore brothers, but it suits her perfectly. Rose knows she isn't breathing, and even though it is not exactly something necessary for the un-dead, it still makes her feel lightheaded, and dizzy.

Damon kept his promise. Lying on the bed, is her very own ring, and for the first time in over 500 years, she will actually be able to feel the sun on her skin. It won't be like the dream Damon had conjured for her. It will be real. She won't burn, but will instead be able to walk outside at anytime of day. She'll be able to go anywhere. She'll be able to pretend she's human.

Rose is shaking as she slips it onto her finger. She doesn't know how Damon did it, as she doesn't wear rings, but it is a perfect fit. She just stares at the piece of jewellery on her hand for a moment, not quite sure how to proceed, and not entirely sure she believes it is real.

Then all of a sudden, without warning it happens, and light floods into the room, immediately touching her body. Rose flinches, and scrunches shut her eyes, but there is no need. There isn't the normal smell of burning flesh, nor does she feel the agony of being burned alive. Slowly she opens her eyes, squinting slightly from the light. She can't move, she is glued to the spot. The sunlight feels warm on her face, and it is better than the memory she has been holding in her mind for the last 500 years. Yes there had been times, when she had been in places like Slater's coffee shop, where filters had allowed her to be in the sun, but it wasn't the same. Now this right now, was the real deal, this wasn't an allusion.

"So I guess the Wicked Witch of Mystic Falls, did an alright job after all." Rose turns to look in the shadows by the curtains. Damon stands there holding the cord that let the light into the room. He is giving her a gentle smirk, but there is no malice or anger there. In fact, Rose would say he looked pleased.

"I don't know whether to kiss you, or stake you."

"Most people tend to feel that way about me." He drawls, and Rose rolls her eyes, but doesn't move.

"You could have killed me just then, if Bonnie hadn't done this properly." Now it's Damon's turn to roll his eyes, but he slowly comes forward, his arms crossed.

"No, I would have saved you. You've already almost died on me today; I wouldn't have let it happened again." For once in his life, Damon is actually being sincere, and Rose feels her heart flutter slightly. Yes, today Damon had most certainly proved that he would not let her die.

"Thank you." Her voice is small, almost childlike, and all she can feel in that moment is intense gratitude towards the younger vampire in front of her. She can feel the tears starting to well up in her eyes, and Damon's face suddenly goes from his suave expression to one more accurately resembling panic.

"Oh, no you don't. Please do not cry on me. I'm not Stefan, I don't do the whole, comforting thing…" He looks disgusted as he says the last few words, and Rose wants to laugh, because she knows how wrong he is. After everything he has done for her in the last few days, she knows that what he has just said is so very wrong. Instead she just lets out a small smile, and goes towards him. He looks wary as she steps closer, but doesn't go to move away from her.

Slowly and gently she wraps her arms around his neck, and he gives her a small guarded smile. She smiles back softly, and gives him a gentle kiss on the lips. It is a small gesture, but it conveys everything at that moment. Just how grateful she is, that he did not let her die, and how immeasurably happy she is that he has given her a part of her old life back. She can't say those things out loud; just as much as she knows he won't admit how happy he is that she is not dead. They are both still guarded, but at least they are more honest with each other than with anyone else. Him because he has a role to play, and her because he's all she's got.

"You, Damon Slavatore, are just a big softy."

"Are you sure your head isn't rattled by that bite?" He looks at her sceptically, but doesn't push her away. She laughs lightly and shakes her head. He smirks in a way that Rose can already see where his mind has wandered, and she can't say that she is opposed to his intentions. "I think we may just have to rectify your impression of me." He is on her then. His lips leaving burning hot kisses across her neck, her mouth, her jaw, everywhere where her skin is visible.

"Oh, really?" She mutters, her hands already getting caught in his hair.

"Definitely." He says huskily. Already lost in the task.

They are certainly not careful with each other, even though she is still not completely better. It is not romantic or loving in the slightest; something more resembling anger and passion driving them forward. It is what they both need at that moment, and that is really all that matters. It is need, passion and desire. Desire for each other, and to forget the shitty things that are going on around them.


End file.
